Taking Chances, Looking Past
by BaileyRhapsody
Summary: Willing to do anything to prove that she's a team player, and worthy of acceptance, Rachel joins the McKinley High Football team...what could possibly go wrong?
1. Chapter 1

A.N: I know, I know. Wth am I doing starting another fic when I already have two on my plate? I'm not crazy guys lmao. The idea just would not leave my mind, so I decided to try and post the first chapter. I honestly don't know when this fic will be updated, probably sometime after SFTD reaches chapter 10? Idk it all depends really. Anyways, this fic should be fairly normal...in regards to the fact that the other two stories I'm writing are pretty unconventional. Haha, I hope you guys like this

Summary: Willing to do anything to prove that she's a team player and worthy of acceptance, Rachel joins the football team. What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

Rachel didn't know what to do. Not only had she had lost her boyfriend, she had lost her only true friend and it was all over a kiss.

Finn didn't want anything to do with her. She'd had tried talking to him, tried to handle the situation like an adult, only to be repeatedly snubbed by the boy whom she thought she was going to spend the rest of her High School career with. And when he wasn't snubbing her, he was glaring daggers at her from across the room.

She couldn't believe that out of all the crappy things he'd done to her, that out of all the times she would forgive and take him back, that he would shun her over one mistake! Kissing Noah doesn't even compare to sleeping with Santana and then _lying_ to her about it.

Finn had made it clear that he was done with her, and if she was to be perfectly honest with herself, she was equally done with him. She was done with boys in general. She was sick of putting her heart on the line only to have it excessively stomped on. First Finn, then Jesse, then Finn again.

Rachel wanted to be strong and make it by herself but she didn't know if she could when she was constantly being attacked. She could deal with the general population of the student body hating her, but to be despised to by her own team, her own family? She couldn't deal with it anymore.

Why did everyone hate her? Was it because she was obnoxious, because she complained about not getting enough solo's, because she wasn't a "team" player? Cause if that's why people coudlnt' stand her, then everyone should hate each other.

They had all been like that one time or another, even more so than herself. And when she actually tried to stand up for her self, Mr. Shue would tell her to shut up and say that she wasn't acting like a team player, ignoring the fact that Santana and Mercedes just spent 10 minutes insulting her.

Wasn't a team player? Without Rachel, there would be no Glee club. Just because they had tied (tied! If she had sang they would have fricking won. She didn't get a standing ovation last year because people were tried of sitting down.) at sectionals this year, everyone thought that she was useless and they'd be just fine without her on the team.

Rachel was tired of it. She just wanted to be able to go through one day without being told to shut up and being called annoying.

All she had ever wanted was to have friends. Real friends, not just people who used her for her talent, like the Glee kids did everyday, only to turn around and insult her a second later. She was tired of being alone and as of right now was going to prove to everyone, not just the Gleek's that she wasn't just the annoying queen diva of Glee.

She swore she was going to prove them all wrong, or her name wasn't Rachel Barbara Berry.

* * *

All throughout the day Rachel stayed silent in each of her classes, brainstorming ideas on what exactly she could do to help people see through her facade, without having any luck. She just couldn't think of anything she could do, minus quitting Glee and watching them fail at regionals without her talent...but that wouldn't show them that she was team player, they'd probably just think she was being selfish even though she had thrown her whole damn being into that club.

As 4th period rolled around, Rachel hope was starting to deflate. She still hadn't figured anything out. However, just as she was about to give up, she passed by a poster on the bulletin board in the hallway.

**McKinely needs football players! Are you ready to be all you can be for your school?  
Try-out required, See Coach Beiste Monday after school at 3**

An idea starting to form in her mind as she read the words over and over again until she had them memorized.

She couldn't...it was just almost crazy...no it was pure lunacy! She wasn't actually thinking of trying out for the football team. She would get laughed out of the building, and then she'd be laughed at some more. Also, there was the fact that Finn was on the team, and he was probably going to see it as another attempt for her to try and get close to him.

Plus, there was this little fact, almost insignificant really, except it was! She was a _girl_. There was no way Sylvester and Figgins would even let her entertain the idea of trying out for the football team, let alone actually joining...but then again, Artie was on the team and he was in a wheelchair.

Rachel felt herself break a bit out of her melancholy. Even though the football team at McKinely sucked, every player on the team was popular.

Also if she joined, she could show them all that she could be a team player. She wouldn't even have to play a major role. Just being on the team would help her out. With determination, Rachel turned from the poster and stalked off in the direction of the boy's locker room.

* * *

"You want to what!" Coach Beiste asked, eying Rachel skeptically. Rachel recoiled slightly at the tone before resolving herself and taking a deep breath,

"Coach Beiste, though I know that my request in highly unusual and perhaps a bit unorthodox, what I am asking you is simply for a chance to try out. Surely you can give me some leeway on my request. After all, I believe you have a player on your team who's in a wheelchair who is highly beneficial in your games. A new player of smaller stature could help you out a lot. Also, if I were to make it, I could perhaps be the-" Rachel looked down at her notes, before looking back up with a smile, "Punter? That seems to be the safest position in football, and the chances of myself getting hurt are fairly slim."

Rachel finished off, with a hint of desperation in her voice. Coach Beiste couldn't reject her. This was the only idea that she had after three hours of planning. She couldn't want to go back to square one.

Coach Beiste continued to stare at her before clearing her throat, "Look Rachel, I don't really know what's going on in your head, but joining the boys football team? It's only calling for trouble. The guys here would never go for it and even if they did, you'd have to change in here with them."

Rachel just looked at her in confusion. Coach Beiste just sighed, "What I'm saying Rachel is...well you're a fairly attractive girl. They wouldn't be able to focus on the upcoming game if they're too busy hiding their natural male reaction to your ahm...unclothed body."

Rachel's face erupted in red, "Oh, _oh._"she started, before clearing her own suddenly dry throat, "We-well, I've already thought of a solution for that Coach. I'll just simply get changed in the bathroom before practice and after. And I can shower after all the um boys go home." she said with so much determination in her voice that it physically hurt Shannon to force out the words she says next.

"Look, Rachel...you just can't join..." Shannon's heart broke slightly, when she saw the brunette's hopeful look in her eye fade into emptiness. Rachel looked down at her lap, willing herself not to cry as she and Shannon sat in silence for a few minutes.

"I-I don't have a lot of friends Coach...no...I don't have any friends. I get made fun of every day because I'm different, people throw slushy's in my face because I speak my mind. Joining football...joining any team that could possibly accept me for who I am after I prove to them I'm more than just a girl...it's all I want Coach...I just-I just don't want to be alone anymore. Please, please let me at least try out."Rachel pleaded desperately.

Shannon's eyes widened at the conviction in the girl's voice. A slight smile started to form on her face, because no longer did she see Rachel Berry. She saw a young Shannon Beiste, desperate for someone to just accept her. It was at this moment that Shannon decided to fuck the consequences, she would deal with the results of letting a girl join the foot ball team later.

Rachel sat trembling, clutching her skirt and holding in her tears as she waited for Coach Beiste's final no. However, she felt a wide smiles break out on her face when she saw the Coach nod her head and grin lightly at her.

"Ok Berry, you've got yourself a try-out."


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N: first of all, even though Rachel is my 100%, can we please get some more Santana and Quinn solos? Cause even though Lea's voice is so powerful and makes me want to cry when she's doing those soulfull ballads, Dianna's voice is super sexy and Naya's voice is sultry and I just want to hear more of that in my life.**

Anyways, Hey! So SFTD is pretty much done, I'm kinda just keeping it under wraps for a special reason. Anyways, heres the next chapter. Flashbacks are italicized. Just a filler until I get into the real you enjoy! :) 

* * *

Rachel walked down the hallway, feeling happiness coursing through her veins. Today was the day of her try-out and she was pumped because all weekend had been spent in preparation for the upcoming audition. She was feeling so good about herself, in fact, that she didn't even bother dealing with Finn. For all she cared he could suck it. She was not about to let a boy be her ruin.

She thought back with her conversation with Beiste;

"_Ok, Berry, you've got yourself a try out." Shannon said smiling. The grin on Rachel's face only widened as tears started prickling the edges of her eyes._

"I-I don't know what to say Coach. Thank you. I won't let you down, I promise." she said as tears started to flow down her face. She raised a hand to her face to swipe at the tears uselessly.

"I," She sniffed, "I don't know why I'm crying. You must think I'm some kind of wreck." Rachel mumbled to Coach Beiste, mortified by her tears. She couldn't believe that she was breaking down because she got the chance to get something she wanted.

But instead of judging her, Shannon smiled kindly, understanding exactly how Rachel felt. It was the same way she felt when, after years of constant torment, someone treated her with a shred of decency. The relief was so overwhelming that she herself broke out into tears.

"It's ok Rachel. I understand." Shannon said as she reached out a hand to lay on top of Rachel's "I understand. You don't have to worry about me judging you. I will never judge you for who you are, and if you make it and prove to the guys that you deserve to be on the team as much as they do, then they'll accept you too. And that's a promise."

Rachel sobbed, "Thank you, thank you so much." A wide smile broke out on her face at the words, because in only fifteen minutes spent in a room with a woman she had never attempted to talk to and she felt more accepted than she had by her so called friends and family in her entire life.

Shannon only smiled again, "No problem, kiddo. Just show up on Monday morning for the try-outs and remember to do your best."

Rachel's tears dried up and she raised her head in determination, "I will! You can count on me."

Rachel's good mood at the memory diminished, however, when she felt the icy cold sting of slushy hitting her face and the sound of raucious laughter.

'Cherry flavor' she thought dejectedly, and raised her head to see who had slushied her. It was Karofsky, who was standing with a laughing Azimio. 'Great, just great. The day I'm supposed to try out and my soon to be teamates slushy me. I'm screwed.'

"Hey it's a cherry-flavored Berry." Azimio joked, causing Karofsky to laugh louder before high-fiving him as they walked away, leaving her dripping in slushy.

Rachel took a breath, before letting it out slowly and continuing on with confidence. 'Soon. Soon things will be different.' she thought before mentally dusting herself off, and making a detour to the bathroom to clean herself off.

She never noticed the hazel eyes watching her from the distance.

* * *

Quinn's eyes followed Rachel's form until she disappeared into the bathroom, nodding absently at Brittany, who was yammering on about something involving Artie, cucumbers, and mustard.

"-and then the cucumber started dancing, Q, and I really wanted to dance with it-Quinn?" Quinn's eyes snapped back to Brittany-looking at her with a confused pout- at the sound of her name.

"Uh, that's sounds cool, B. I wish I could dance with the cucumber too." She said placating the other blonde. Brittany's eyes lit up happily and she linked arms with Quinn and dragged her along to Spanish, this time talking about the mustard which caused Quinn to mentally roll her eyes.

She loved Brittany like a sister, but sometimes...

"So why were you staring at Rachel, Q?" Brittany asked out of the blue as they strode along to their next class. Quinn turned to the blonde in surprise. She didn't think she had noticed.

"Um, what are you talking about Britt. I wasn't looking at Ra-Berry." Quinn tried uselessly to deny.

Brittany frowned at her in confusion, "What are you talking about? You were staring at Rachel sadly and then when Dave slushied her, your eyes got really angry, like Santana angry when people would make fun of me."

Flushing a bright red, Quinn again attempted to avoid the questioning, "Look, B, I was just looking at her atrocious outfit, that's all. And, and, I got so mad because, um, I was so offended by her choice of clothing that I wanted to punch her in the face."

Brittany only grew more confused, "Well, ok, if you say so. I thought Rachel looked ok today. Less like a grandma, and more like a toddler...hey, Q, do you think it'd be ok if we got baby bottle pops? They're really good..."

Quinn breathed a sigh of relief as the blonde once again trailed off before her thoughts turned to Rachel. It did make her angry when she saw the brunette's beautiful smile, a smile she hadn't seen since Rachel and Finn had broke up thanks to Santana, wiped away by those ignorant jocks. It had kind of made her happy to see Rachel so happy.

But Quinn wasn't ready to admit that to anyone. Not to her best friend, and especially not to Rachel. She didn't know if she'd ever be ready. So until then, she would just have to play her part and not let the mask slip.

'Until then...'

* * *

After sufficiently cleaning herself, Rachel headed to her math class with a newly determined stride. She wouldn't let anything bring her down today, not even Karofsky's daily slushy facial and having to miss Glee to attend the try-outs. Though if she really thought about it, the latter was more of a blessing than a curse.

'First stop, Math. Then English, and finally try-outs.'

The smile wiped off due to the slushy facial returned full force. 'I mean, how hard would it be to make the team and to win these guys over?'

Ridiculously hard. As she would soon find out.


	3. Chapter 3

A.N: Hello all! As you all know, I have three stories on my table, so being the awesome beta she is, Sio and I have decided to co-author 'Taking Chances, Looking Past.' So this chapter, and the next were written by Sio. I hope you guys enjoy! :D  
**A/N:** Greets, ya'll. This is Sio the Beta, taking a tiny break from iLament for a Daemon's Soul/i (no worries, I'm still writing it!) and lending a helping hand on iTaking Chances, Looking Past/i, hope it works out!

* * *

"The hell is another of the damn glee freaks doing here?"

At Karofsky's outburst, Puck glanced up from his hamstring stretches to see who'd wandered out to the field, expecting Tina or Brittany looking for Mike or Artie. When he spotted the familiar bright smile of the team's resident diva dressed out for gym class coming across the field, he'd hopped to his feet and hurried over.

"Hey, Jew-babe!" Catching her arm, he pulled her off to the side before she could get to where the rest of the team had gathered. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for the tryouts." Rachel's bright smile faded a bit as she glanced up at him, seeing the worry in his eyes, "I would think that'd be rather obvious, Noah, given my state of dress."

"Rach, are you iinsane/i?" Looking around quickly, he tugged her further away from the others. "They will ikill/i you out there. You're hot and all, but you're not a football player."

"Noah, while I quite appreciate your concern, albeit imisplaced/i," she reached up, wrapping her hand about his wrist and plucking his hand from her shoulder, "I am entirely capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much. I spent the previous night Googling for the most efficient methods to obtain optimal levels of success during a high school level football tryout. I am, of course, referring to American football and not the European style which we more commonly refer to as soccer."

The shrill blast of Coach Beiste's whistle cut through the air, startling them both into looking towards where the coach was standing. "Berry! Puckerman! Get your asses over here! Come on! I haven't got all day!"

Puck headed back over at a brisk jog, Rachel hesitating only a moment before running to catch up. Once they got over to the group - Puck breaking off to join the regulars - Beiste waved Rachel to join her. Swallowing down the nervous butterflies trying to escape her stomach, she put on her best showface and stood proudly at the coach's side.

"Now, as you worthless sacks no doubt know, this team is sorely lacking in the vital talent we need to stop being the laughing stocks of this school." Ice blue eyes raked over the group of boys desperately looking anywhere but at her. "As such, I decided to open tryouts in the hopes of attracting some to this pathetic group. iUnfortunately/i, due to what appears to be a viral campaign on Twitter and Facebook to discourage such attempts, we only have ione/i brave soul willing to step up." She dropped her arm around Rachel's shoulders, letting her hand pat heavily on her far shoulder.

"Um, Coach, that's, like, iRachel/i."

"Yes, Finn, I'm aware of that."

The tall jock scratched the back of his head. "But she's like small and stuff."

"Again, I am entirely aware of this face, Finn. Are you going to add anything relevant any time soon?"

"But she's like a igirl/i and stuff. Shouldn't she be playing with the Cheerios or something if she wants to be a jock? I mean, girls don't play football." He looked at Rachel who was glaring up at him, her arms folded across her chest. "No offense, Rach, but you'd get creamed out here."

"Hey, I'll cream her alright!" Karofsky joked, clutching himself and making crude thrusts while the other guys laughed.

Coach Bieste's whistle shrieked again. "That's ienough/i! Karofsky," she glared at the doughy faced boy who suddenly had the presence of mind to look nervous, if not afraid, "if I iever/i hear that kind of vile, idisgusting/i crap come out of your piehole again, you're off the team. Understand me?"

"Yes, Coach Bieste." His voice was quiet.

"I don't think I heard you." She stepped forward into the boy's space, leaning close until their faces were only inches apart, her voice dropped to a low hiss. iWhat/i was that, Karofsky?"

"Yes, Coach Bieste!" He barked, straightening up as he did so.

"That's better. Now, Berry, I expect the best out of everyone that comes on this field. Do not expect your gender to gain you any special treatment. Do you understand?"

"Of course, I always give my best effort at all -" Rachel started, fully prepared to explain why she would be a valued member of the team.

Coach Bieste held up a hand, silencing her with a look. "Yes or no answers will be sufficient, Berry." Rachel looked like she'd like to say something again, but quickly quieted down at the coach's stern expression. "Yes or no, Berry. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Coach Bieste." Her voice only raised to sufficient levels to be heard, which was obviously not acceptable judging by the older woman's raised eyebrow. Taking a deep breath, Rachel belted out the answer in her best stage voice. "Yes, Coach Bieste!"

Shannon smiled. "Very good, Berry. Next question, have you ever played football before?" When Rachel opened her mouth, she held up a cautionary hand. "Yes or no, Berry."

"No, Coach Bieste!"

"Okay, then." She brought her whistle to her lips and blew a short blast, "Everyone, take a knee and listen up! Berry's here to try out, so you're going to help put her through her paces. Puckerman! Hudson! Evans! You're up! Let's see how she does with a few basic pass runs. The rest of you, I want to see suicides and blocking practice going non-stop until you're called. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Coach!"

The whistle blew again. "Then what are you waiting for! Hop to it!"

Most of the team scattered about the field, leaving only Finn, Puck, Sam and Rachel standing with Bieste. Finn looked nervous, repeatedly glancing between Rachel and the coach. Puck looked bored, if maybe a bit apprehensive. Rachel might be a girl, but if she wanted to be on the field it wasn't like there was anything he could do to stop it, so he figured he'd just have to make sure she didn't get hurt. Sam just looked confused.

After a moment the blond boy spoke up. "Um, Coach, can Rachel even be on the team? I mean, I know Artie's kinda iffy as he is, but she's a girl."

"Title IX!" At the confused looks, Rachel was more than happy to explain, "To quote: 'no person in the United States shall, on the basis of sex, be excluded from participation in, be denied the benefits of, or be subjected to discrimination under any education program or activity receiving Federal financial assistance.'"

"So, like, ACLU stuff."

"Exactly, Finn. And as you know, my two dads are perfectly willing to take this as far as necessary to allow me a fair shot."

"Your 'fair shot', Berry, is contingent on your getting on the field and getting on with this try out. Now, can we istart/i, or are you four old ladies going to stand around babbling at each other all afternoon?" The whistle made yet another appearance, "Let's imove/i, ladies!"

They scrambled for the field, Sam barely keeping enough of his mind to grab a couple of footballs from the basket on the way, much to Bieste's approval.


	4. Chapter 4

A.N: Another chapter by my wonderful beta! Hope you guys enjoy :) And to all those who read ETIW, I'll be posting the rest of the chapters at my journal: .com

**A/N:** Sio the Beta up to bat again. Sorry that the tryouts got glossed, but I didn't think I had enough familiarity without tryouts worked to give it enough credit. Hopefully this chapter will make up for that.

* * *

"Seriously, Rach, you've got to learn to catch better."

"It's not _my_ fault the ball bounced up into my face and I kept hold of it, didn't I?" Rachel's voice was muffled by the big ice pack Puck was helping her hold to the side of her face. She pulled it away revealing a rapidly swelling bruise on the side of her face, making her keep her eye partially closed. "It didn't hit my nose at all, did it?"

"No, your nose is still Jewishly fine." Puck smirked, a brow raising at her being more concerned with the condition of her nose then the mega-bruise and black eye. "And you've gotta leave that on there or you'll swell up like a balloon." He pushed the ice pack back up to her face.

"Do you think I messed it up? The tryout I mean. I didn't catch the ball like my Daddy taught me."

"Nah, that was pretty cool how you kept control of it out there. Even I probably would have dropped after catching it with my eye."

Rachel reached out and patted him lightly on the forearm. "That's just because you lack my amazing dedication to success, Noah. Perhaps we could work on improving that. I'm sure that with regular practice you'd be able to pull it off on any occasion."

Puck barked a laugh at the idea. "Thanks, Rachel, but I think I'll pass. Not really feeling the whole 'getting footballs chucked at my face by Finn' part of that idea. Besides, that's why we wear helmets out there." He paused, remembering just how Rachel had managed to acquire the bruise they were trying to ice down, "Say, where _was_ your helmet anyway?"

"It didn't fit right." Rachel blushed, glancing away, "It was too big and kept slipping around so I couldn't see."

"Rach, for a smart, hot, totally doable Jewish girl, you can be really dumb sometimes. That's why we kept _asking_ you if it fit right!"

"I didn't want to be a bother and Coach Beiste said it was the smallest one they had." She looked down, not wanting to see the disappointment in her one supporter's eyes.

Puck sighed, frowning darkly, "It's important that the padding fits properly, Rach. It keeps you safe. You can't just accept 'it'll do', it's gotta fit, okay? And, seriously, there's like pads and stuff we coulda put in there if you'd just _said_ something."

"I'm sorry." Her big brown eyes welled up with tears.

"Aw, hell. No, look, it's not a big deal. Really. Please don't cry. Come on." He pulled her into a hug, feeling entirely stupid, "Just, you know, remember it for the future, 'kay? I don't want to see you getting carried off the field on a stretcher cause your gear didn't fit right,"

"Okay." Her voice was subdued, but she sat back, breaking away from the impromptu embrace just as Coach Bieste pushed open the door to the trainer's office.

"Hey," the older woman's voice was kind as she crossed the room to stand by the cot Rachel was perched on, "how's it look?"

Rachel lowered the ice pack, letting the coach get a good look at the livid skin on the side of her face and the swelling black eye. "Like I caught a football with my face."

"Ouch, but that's why we wear our pads _and_ helmets out there."

"I know. Noah was just reminding me of that."

"He has his moments. You listen to him." Coach Beiste raised an eyebrow at the boy's dramatic 'why me?' face, "Besides, we need to keep our newest running back in shape."

"Newest...?" Rachel's head popped up, the ice pack falling forgotten to the ground, eyes bright with excitement, "You mean...?"

Shannon smiled, patting her lightly on the shoulder. "Yeah, you're on the team as of now, Rachel. We'll need to work on your catching so we don't have any more," she gestured at the bruise on Rachel's face, "_incidents_, but I haven't seen anyone move that fast down a field yet and I'm not about to risk losing you to the track and fielders."

She turned to the boy, now nodding in approval, "Puckerman, make sure she's kitted out and give her the schedules." She looked back to the grinning girl, "I'll see you on Friday, Berry. Be sure to bring your A-game."

"Yes, Coach Beiste! I won't let you regret it!" She jumped up, throwing her arms around the stunned football coach and giving the older woman a big Rachel Berry style bear hug.

* * *

Her locker slammed shut in front of her face, causing her to jump back, just barely missing getting her fingers caught in the steel door.

"_What_," a pale hand slammed into the locker in front of her before she had time to turn and face her assailant, "is up with your _face_, Manhands? You letting that overgrown child your so obsessed with use you as a punching bag now or something?"

The attack had come from the side of her face that was still swollen from the mishap on the football field, so she couldn't _see_ her attacker, but she certainly recognized the voice. "Hello to you too, Quinn." She turned and faced the glowering blonde. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Hello? Have you _looked_ in a mirror today?" The blonde scowled, gesturing at the smaller girl's battered face. "You're like the poster child for abuse victims."

Rachel's good eye narrowed slightly. "And why should you care?"

If anything, the cheerleader's scowl deepened. "I _don't_. But I _really_ don't like guys who get their kicks smacking girls around, so if some jerk is hitting you or any other girl in this school, I want to know!"

"Not that it is _any_ of your business, Quinn," Rachel stepped to the side, preparing to walk around the seething cheerleader and away, "but this was entirely the result of an accident, the injury part of which was entirely my fault for being foolish."

"God! Are you even _listening_ to yourself? You freaking _sound_ like a battered wife!" Quinn threw up her hands, trying to keep herself from reaching out and grabbing the girl's shoulders. "What'd you do, walk in to a freaking _door_?"

The brunette scowled. "I did nothing of the sort! And I take offense at your assuming that I would remain in a relationship with someone who _abused_ me. I have too much respect for myself to remain with any person who would do such a thing."

She stepped to the side, attempting to get away but Quinn reached out and grabbed her wrist, spinning her around. "Oh, no, you don't! You don't get to walk away until you tell me what the hell happened!"

"Again, not that it is your business, but I got this because I was trying to catch a football without my helmet on. It hit me in the face. It's rather embarrassing, so if you don't mind, I would _rather_ not talk about it."

With that, she stepped past the cheerleader again and this time managed to make good her escape. The blonde just stared at her back as she walked away.

_Trying to catch a _football_?_


	5. Chapter 5

**A.N: Hey! So, I wrote this chapter ahha. hope it doesn't suck ^_^;. Enjoy!**

**

* * *

**

"And that's it for today ladies. Hit the showers."

Rachel sat in the back of the boys locker room, where she had listened intently to Coach Beiste's outlining the plays for Friday's home game, all the while taking color coded notes. She smiled genuinely at them, proud of her small accomplishment after yesterday's screw up and her inability to practice today because of her eye, when suddenly a hand came down and tipped the notes over.

The notes toppled to the floor, along with her color pencils and journal. Rachel stared down at the mess in disbelief before glaring up at the perpetrator. Karofsky.

"Oops, my bad, Glee freak. It was totally an accident, kinda like that ball hitting your face was." Karofsky joked maliciously, high five-ing a laughing Azimio. Rachel held in a sigh, instantly annoyed by the other jock's behavior.

"I'm sure it was Dave, much like how I made running back on my first try while you're still riding bench . _Total_ accident." She said, bending over to pick over her discarded work. She heard Azimio bark out a laugh at her jibe, holding in a smile at the sound, before standing back up to face a seething Karofsky.

"Why you little-"

"Berry! My office now." Coach Beiste's voice sounded from her office, cutting off Karofsky's threat. Rachel smiled innocently at the boy, clutching her books to her chest as she walked off towards Shannon's office.

She let a smirk grace her features when she heard Azimio tell Karofsky, "Ow, burn, man!"

"Shut the hell up!"

_Huh, maybe fitting in won't be so hard after all..._

* * *

Rachel let the door to Coach Beiste's office close behind her, staring worriedly at the stony faced Shannon with her good eye., "You wanted to see me, Coach?"

Shannon's hard expression melted as soon as the door slammed shut, and she gestured for Rachel to take a seat, "Yeah, kiddo. I just wanted to ask how the eye's doing?"

Flushing in embarrassment at the question-she _still_ couldn't believe that she caught the ball with her face-Rachel settled down in the comfortable chair with a sheepish smile, "Eh, yeah. It's ok, I think. The swelling's going down."

Shannon smiled, reaching over to pat Rachel on the shoulder, "Sounds good kid. Will you be up for playing in Friday's game."

Rachel sat up straighter and shouted out a determined, "Yes, Coach Beiste!" Before relaxing and demurely saying, " Ah, I mean, of course. After all, no pain, no gain, right?"

Shaking her head slightly at the answer, Shannon leaned back in the chair with a sigh. They sat in silence for a few minutes, before Rachel let out a meek, "Coach?" Shannon smiled slightly at the singer, before leaning forward again.

"Rachel, when I was your age, I joined the girl's basketball team, and they didn't accept me because I was...different." Shannon started in a solemn voice, staring into the brunette's eyes. "And before my first game, I twisted my ankle really badly, so badly, in fact, that I couldn't walk without all sorts of pain. And I didn't tell my coach when I had the chance"

"Coach-"

Shannon held up a hand, "Let me finish Rachel. I was so eager to prove to my teammates that I was valuable to the team that I ignored a serious injury that almost cost us our first game. It didn't matter to my teammates that I had played through the pain, they were just upset with me for almost ruining their game."

Rachel's head fell forward in shame, the message in Coach Beiste's words clear. 'Don't lie about your condition just because you think you need to fit in'

"Do you get what I'm saying Rachel?"

Clearing her throat as tears gathered at the side of her eyes, Rachel nodded. "I get it Coach." she mumbled, before raising her head again in determination, ignoring her tears.

"I get it, Coach Beiste. And I wont let you, _or_ the team down. Please just trust me when I say I'm ok to play in Friday's game, and if that changes, you'll be the first to know."

Letting a proud smirk grace her features, Shannon nodded in approval, "Good, now hit the showers. You stink."

Rachel laughed at her words.

* * *

After talking to Coach for a few more minutes, Rachel left Shannon's office, barely batting an eye at the half-naked jocks who were hooting and wolf-whistling at her as she passed by them to to get to the exit.

_Boys_ she thought with a roll of her eyes, letting the locker room door fall shut before walking acorss the hallway to get to the girls locker room.

She never noticed the blue eyes watching her in confusion from down the hallway.

* * *

Brittany had just exited the girls locker room after a fun Cheerio's practice and a quick shower, and was standing at her locker, when she saw Rachel exit the boys locker room.

_Why was Rachel in the there? Is she a boy now? I guess those weird names Q and S use to make fun of her would make sense if she was..._ she thought with a confused frown.

She would have called out to the tiny brunette, but Rachel had that look on her face that meant she was going to start sprouting a lot of big words that Brittany didn't understand, so she just let her enter the girls locker room undisturbed.

Turning back to her locker, Brittany grabbed her Cheerios' bag and stuffed it with her sweat stained uniform that she had to take home to wash. Closing the locker softly, she ran quickly through the hallway to exit the school.

_Hmm, maybe San will know if Rachel's a boy now..._ were the last words she thought before getting in her car and driving off.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Sio the Beta back up to bat for another swing... I probably should stop using baseball metaphors for a football fic. XD

* * *

"No, get _under_ it!" Puck yelled down the field as - yet again - the ball squirted up out of her hands and ricocheted off her face mask before she got it under control. He jogged down the field towards her. "You've got to get control of it as soon as it hits your hands."

"Why? This works doesn't it?" She held up the ball, holding it awkwardly with both hands.

He sighed, before taking the ball back. "Rachel, your _face_ should not be part of catching the ball. Ever. You've got to learn to get it under control with your hands."

"My _hands_," she holds up the appendages in question, covered in bandages and scrapes from her efforts trying to learn how to properly catch the ball, "are not unlike the rest of me, which is to say, _small_."

He tucked the ball under his arm and grabbed her hands, moving them so that her outstretched index fingers and thumbs formed a triangle. "There," he took the ball from under his arm and fit it into her hands, "like _that_. You've got to get your hands around it. Small hands is no excuse for crappy catching, Rach. Mini-Mack didn't have problems catching the ball and he was only a couple inches taller than you."

"Mini-Mack?"

"Seriously, Rachel? I thought you googled this shit. Mini Mack Herron, the smallest running back in the NFL? 1974 Patriots?" He frowned at the evident confusion on her face, "Nothing? Really? Geez, Rach, I thought you were into this stuff now."

"I fail to see how the exploits of a small _man_ nearly forty years ago has any impact on me." Rachel sighed, balling up her fists and planting them on her hips as she cocked her head to the side, taking the taller man in.

"Really, Rach, you aren't getting my point."

"What I'm not getting, Noah, is the point in this exercise."

"Whatever. _You're_ the one that wanted to be on the team. Well, you did it. Here you are." He waved around the field, dimly lit by the setting sun, "Now you've got to show you're worth _staying_ on it and the way to do that," he grabbed the ball back from her, "is to learn how to catch the ball. So breaks up, time for practice. I'm not gonna have you making me look like an idiot out there on Friday."

He stepped back, nodding at her to go long again and waiting until she got a good start down the field before launching the ball at her again.

* * *

Brittany slipped into Santana's bedroom just in time to catch Quinn's latest tirade on the subject of one Rachel Berry.

"It's appalling!" Quinn's hands were up in the air as she paced, "She's walking around with these nasty _bruises_ on her face like they're some sort of honorary award! She doesn't even _try_ concealing them!"

Santana groaned, letting her head fall back over the back of the chair, fingers rubbing her scalp, interlaced in her hair, "For the last time, Q, why the hell do you care if someone's batting around the little birdie?"

"Hello? Have you been paying attention?" Quinn pivoted on her heel and turned the full power of her glare on her dark haired best friend, "All of the guys she knows are _our_ friends! Do _you_ want to be friends with some guy who beats on girls?"

"It's _not_ a girl, Q, it's Man hands."

_At last! An opo - opper - oppon - a _chance_!_ "So Rachel _is_ a boy!" Brittany clapped her hands together gleefully as the pieces come together.

Both Santana and Quinn whirl around to stare at the blonde on the bed whose face slowly fell at their shocked expressions. "So... she's not?"

"No!"

"But you always say to call her things like Man hands and Trannie and Ru Paul..." Brittany caught her lower lip in her teeth, glancing worriedly to the side. _I hope I didn't make San mad at me..._

"That's cause we're _mean_, Britt, not because we actually think she's a _guy_." Santana looked mildly appalled at the very idea, which could be attributed to the fact that she'd shared more than one gym class with the oft belittled diva.

"Seriously, B, didn't you take dance with her for a while? I'd think the leotards would have made it obvious she isn't _actually_ packing." Quinn was giving her the strangest look, "Why would you even think that?"

"I just - I saw her coming out of the boys' locker room this afternoon." Brittany twisted the hem of her cheerleading skirt between her hands nervously, looking anywhere but at her two friends, "If she's not a boy, she shouldn't be in the boys' locker room, right?"

"Whoa, wait, _Berry_ was in the _boys'_ locker room?" Santana barked a harsh laugh, an awkward smirk on her face, "Get some, Midget!"

"Will you shut up, San? God, crude much?" Quinn looked disgustedly over her shoulder at the girl in her desk chair, "She was probably just talking to Coach Bieste. Everyone knows her office is in there."

"Why would Rachel be talking to Coach Bieste?" Brittany still didn't look any less confused, but at least she was looking at the other two girls now.

Santana looked worried for maybe a second - it looked terribly uncomfortable on her, "Maybe Q's on to something more than Lemon head and the troll really is getting smacked around."

"Someone's hitting, Rachel?" The blonde on the bed looked sad at the idea, _Rachel's loud and confusing sometimes, but I don't want anyone hitting her._ "But you said Rachel was a girl. People aren't supposed to hit girls, right?" She started looking really worried, blue eyes fixed on her _best_ friend. "San, if someone's hurting Rachel, you'll stop them right?"

"Come on, Britt, it's -" She looked uncomfortable, squirming slightly under Brittany's pleading gaze, "you know, it's _Berry_. I'm sure she can take care of herself."

"_You_ said Rachel's not a guy." Brittany's eyes narrowed, "_You_ told me that no one should hit girls."

"I know I did, Britt! But that doesn't mean I can do anything about it." The darker girl looked pained at having to admit to the blonde that she really couldn't do everything she wanted her to do. "I can't protect everyone and if she's really getting hit, she's gotta make the first step on her own."

Quinn had stayed silent during the exchange, but when Brittany started looking determined, she felt she had to speak up. "Look, B, S, if she was talking to Bieste, then maybe she's already taking that first step. All _we_ have to do is find out what they were talking about and we'll have our answer."

"We're gonna be detectives!" Brittany bounced on the bed, clapping her hands. "Like Nancy Drew!"

Santana and Quinn looked at each other for a long moment before turning matching slightly sickly smiles to the third member of their trio.

"Yes, exactly, Britt. Like Nancy Drew."

* * *

Friday had rolled around with a surprising lack of fanfare.

Rachel rather thought that it should have had one - complete with fireworks and possibly cannons - since it was, after all, her debut game as a full fledged member of the William McKinley Titans. But it'd not been much different than any other Friday, just an extra duffel bag with her new pads and uniform tied to the top of her rolling bag. The only strange thing had been the Cheerios - she felt quite proud of herself of that portmanteau - following her around and popping up in the _oddest_ places for the last few days.

If she was to be honest, it was starting to make her feel a bit paranoid every time she caught a glimpse of the familiar red, black and white uniforms.

But the day had finally arrived, school had finally ended, and now she was waiting patiently in Coach Bieste's office for the rest of the team to prepare, having skipped Glee for the first time in order to get ready before the Cheerios could invade the locker room. She brusted a bit of dust off the front of her jersey. She was entirely proud of the prominent number one displayed on the front of the bright red jersey - it may not be an appropriate number for a running back according to Google, but it was the smallest jersey they had available and she, for one, was not about to argue with _fate_.

She was so lost in her thoughts - a meditation process designed to calm the nerves and ease the mind - that she nearly fell out of her chair at the harsh scream of Coach Bieste's whistle echoing around the concrete walls. Composing herself, she hurried out of the office to join the rest of the team sitting on the benches before the white board, finding herself a spot front and center - just where a true star is always found. Coach Bieste looked out over there with grim confidence, slowly nodding her head.

"Alright, listen up, ladies. This is our _first_ game. The game that sets the tone for the rest of the season. If we win here, there's nothing stopping us from going all the way. If we lose - well, we _won't_, will we?" the answering "NO!" almost knocked Rachel off the bench with how it rang in her sensitive ears, "that's right. We're not going to lose, because this is _our_ game. This is _our_ field. And we? Are _Titans_!"

The resulting roar of approval this time made Rachel make a strongly worded mental note - with _two_ gold stars for extra urgency - to acquire earplugs before the next game.

"Then go show those pansy assed Bulldogs not to mess with the Titans!"

This time Rachel got swept up in the heady rush of emotion and sound as the team poured down the hall and out the doors to the stadium. If this was what Finn experienced every time he took the field, she suddenly felt as if she might be beginning to know why he craved the lights of the field more than those of the stage. She jogged out to the bench, not paying attention to the Cheerios lined up along the sidelines, her attention entirely on the field and her coach.

Coach Bieste slapped down on her shoulder pads - nearly buckling her knees with the casual force of the blow - and checked her helmet before sending her out to the field with the same slap on the ass that the boys got. She jumped a bit at the unexpected smack but hurried out to take her place in the line slightly behind Puck, who'd be running interference for her throughout the game. She grinned brightly at the shocked boy across from her and gave a little wave before dropping into her stance.

Back on the sidelines, two Cheerios had nearly stopped their hopping about trying to get the crowd excited and stay warm in the chilly fall air, while a third just got more excited, frenetically bouncing up and down and waving at the tiny player in the number one jersey. Yet, the same thought went through each mind at the sight.

_Rachel Berry's on the _team_?_


	7. Chapter 7

A.N: Right, so, Bailey here with this chapter. Had some help from Sio cause I mostly was confused but still! I wrote it

Sio's got next chapter.

Edited by my amazing beta, cyberninjasio :D

* * *

_Rachel Berry was on the team_

_Oh. My. God. Rachel Berry is on the __**football**__ team? Why the hell is Berry on the football team!_

Those words had been flowing through Quinn's mind for at least an hour and twenty-five minutes and she still couldn't comprehend them. She wasn't even focusing on the game or her cheering, everything was on auto pilot because, my God, Berry is the goddamn football team.

_Doesn't she know how dangerous...no shut up, Quinn! You don't care about Berry getting hurt. You care about the embarrassment she's not only going to make of the football team if they lose, but also the Cheerios. What girl, who wants to be on a sports team joins the goddamn football team? It's degrading._

**McCalister High makes the touchdown, bringing the score to 7 and 6, McCalister leading.**

Quinn felt unease roil through her at the announcement, finally snapping her attention back to cheering.

_They were losing._

* * *

"Goddammit!" Coach Beiste hollered as she called for break. She waited until the team was around her before letting out a seething, "What the hell is going on out there?"

The boys - and Rachel - looked at the ground shamefully. They hated disappointing their coach, especially since it was the first game of the season.

"Look at me when I'm yelling at you, ladies! I don't have time for this guilt crap. We need to win this game, which means you gotta step it up!"

Coach Beiste glared at each and every one of them before her eyes stopped on Finn. "Hudson! You're the quarterback! What the hell are you doing out there? Berry has been open for half of the goddamn game, Finn and yet you keep throwing it to players like Evans and Puckerman, who've been surrounded by the other team the _whole_ time."

Finn's face flushed as he attempted to stutter out, "We-well, I just-

Coach Besite held up a hand, "No, I don't want to hear your excuses, Hudson. We only got a few more minutes to win this. Next play, you throw it to Berry."

Azimio let out a burst of outrage, "But Coach-!"

"I don't want to hear it from you or anyone else, Azimio! The throw will go to Berry or we're all having practice everyday until the next damn game! Do you understand!" Coach Beiste shouted out, stopping Azimio and any of the other players from saying anything about the next play.

Surprisingly, Rachel had stayed quiet during the whole exchange, the words 'throw it to Berry' echoing in her head.

_Oh, my gosh, oh, my gosh. What if I mess up? What if I'm crushed by a giant gorilla of a linebacker? How many bones will I break? gasp What about my __**nose**__? How can I be on Broadway if-_

Rachel's thoughts were interrupting when she felt a heavy hand come down on her shoulder, making her glance up in shock. Coach Beiste's hard eyes gazing softly down at her.

"Now's your chance to prove yourself, both to me and the team. You got this, Berry?" Shannon asked her, confident of what the younger girl's answer would be.

Suddenly fear and doubt evaporated from Rachel's mind and she straighted up, "Yes, Coach Beiste!" she barked out, determination lacing her voice.

Shannon laughed, slapping her hard on the ass, "Well, then, don't disappoint us, kid! You're on!"

Rachel nodded, jumping up and down before throwing her helmet on. She was about to jog on onto the field when Puck placed a hand on her shoulder pads.

Glancing back, she saw him give her a nod that said 'We got this, babe.' making her feel all the more confident. With Noah watching her back, she knew she could achieve anything.

The members of the McKinley High Titans' offensive line rushed out onto the field and took their positions, with Rachel digging her heels into the ground before glancing up at the boy across from her.

He looked kind of angry - and she was suddenly glad she'd worn her mouth guard. She could hear Finn yelling over to the side - something about Whitney Houston? - and dropped a little deeper into the stance her daddy had taught her, digging the toes of her cleats into the field in preparation for the clash.

Then she heard it - sensitive ears picking up the snap of Finn's oversized hands slapping hold of the football - and she was off, dodging down the field, looking back over her shoulder towards their tall quarterback and the football. There! Dropping out of the sky right at her was the ball

* * *

"Oh, my God, Q! Look, they're throwing _Berry_ the fucking ball! We've lost!" Quinn heard Santana's voice shout out at her, but she couldn't respond back. Couldn't focus on anything other than Rachel and the ball that seemed to be dropping towards her in slow motion.

She didn't even realize her eyes had slipped closed, hands clasping almost unconsciously together in prayer - the thoughts of God, please. Please, let her catch it, running too loud over and over through her mind. She didn't open them again until she heard the crowd roar.

* * *

Rachel lifted her hands like Puck had taught her and-almost like magic-her fingers curled around it, palms pressing into the pebbly leather and it stayed. Her eyes widened and she looked around for Puck with a happy grin. "Noah! Noah, I did it!"

He checked a guy in the white and blue of the opposing team away from her, knocking him to the ground. "Great! Now, run!"

She heard them now - everyone yelling at her to run. She didn't know why she couldn't before - they're quite loud - but the yells pale at the sight of the large boys in the colors of the opposing team bearing down on her.

Eyes wide, she turned to the goal - cleats digging in, ball tucked under her arm, muscles clenching - and burst into the most terrified race towards its elusive safety that she's ever made - the other team hot on her heels, Puck barely able to keep up while blocking for her.

Sprinting down the field like Barbara Streisand was at the finish line, she noticed it, wide eyed. The goal was right there. She resisted the urge to turn her head and look back, practically feeling the other team bearing down on her, sensing their desire to destroy her.

_I can make it!_ She gasped for breath, relentlessly churning forwards, eyes fixed on solely on the goal dancing before her eyes. _I can make it!_

**Five, four, three, two - TOUCHDOWN! BERRY MAKES THE TOUCHDOWN! THEY DID IT! TITANS WIN! TITANS WIN!**

Rachel fell to her knees, ears popping and heart beating wildly in her chest as she tore off her helmet to hear the crowd cheering and chanting her name.

_Ber-ry! Ber-ry! Ber-ry!_

Letting out an exhausted laugh, she collapsed backwards onto the soft earth, giggling hysterically. _I made it! Oh, dear Lord, all that time on the elliptical actually paid off._

Her thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of someone scooping her up in their sweaty arms. "You did it, Rachel!" she heard Sam shout, practically in her ear as he crushed her to his chest in a massive hug, spinning her around before letting her stagger out of the embrace. Puck tugged her into him before she can get too far away and lifts her on his shoulders,

"BABE! YOU FUCKING DID IT! WE WON!" He laughed as the rest of the team surrounded them with excited shouts.

"WE WON! WE WON!"

Rachel began laughing at the excited squeals, "We won!" she yelled, pumping her fist in the air happily. Coach Beiste ran up to her and pulls her down from Puck's shoulders, spinning her around in another crushing hug.

"You did it! Rachel, you did it!"

* * *

Quinn let out the breath she didn't know she was holding, feeling almost weak in the knees with relief as the crowd and the other Cheerios cheered around her.

_She did it...she actually did it,_ she thought, a shy smile breaking out onto her face, the corner of her bottom lip catching between her teeth.

"Q! Can you believe it! The midget made a touchdown! We won because of her!" Santana laughed, hugging a giggling Brittany's waist.

Quinn's shy expression melted and her HBIC persona slammed back in place, "So? Who cares, Santana? You do realize that it's disgraceful, right? She could have joined the Cheerios like a normal girl, instead she went and joined the damn football team. It's disgusting."

Santana rolled her eyes, "Yeah, whatever you say, Q. Like I didn't see your happy ass smiling when RuPaul made that touchdown."

Face flushing, Quinn's eyes narrowed before she let out a huff and stomped away from the field. Brittany watched her leave in confusion.

"Why is Q so mad, S? I thought she liked Rachel." she asked in an adorably sweet voice. Santana just shrugged.

"Who knows B, and fuck, who cares! We fucking won our first game since like, ever. We should go to my house and celebrate," she glanced over, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. Brittany's eyes lit up.

"Ooh, ooh! Can we watch that movie with the talking dog again, Santy?"

Santana's eyes widened, "What - Britt, I mean celebrate as in -" she found she couldn't finish her sentence with Brittany gazing down at her all pouting and stuff. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she nodded.

"Uh, yeah, of course, babe. Anything you want."

Brittany squealed and threw her arms around Santana's shoulders. "Yay! Thanks, San!"

Santana resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she held Brittany. Totally worth it

* * *

The team carried Rachel into the locker room, each cheering and making up their own stories about what happened.

"Fuck, did you guys see the little midget? There were like six two hundred pound guys barreling after her and Berry just whizzed past them like it was nothing." Puck said, rubbing a hand over the top of Rachel's pony-tailed head.

Rachel laughed as she ducked out of the way, only to be picked up by Sam. "It was fucking awesome! She didn't even look like she was breaking a sweat! How'd you get so fast, Rach?" he asked as he spun her around.

She laughed before wrestling out of his arms, "You'll never know, boys." She winked before turning to walk away, nearly running into Coach Beiste. As she looked up at the Coach with a smile, that Shannon affectionately returned, the gravity of tonight's situation finally hit her.

She made the winning touchdown. Even if some of the team still didn't like her, what she did would at least prove to them that she was worthy of being on the team.

_I'm Rachel Berry. And I'm number one!_

Coach Beiste ruffled her hair, "You did good out there, kid. You all did! I'm so, so proud of all of you right now. The Titans are coming back and we're going to prove to everyone that said we couldn't make anything of ourselves that they were wrong!"

The boys cheered as Coach Beiste yelled out, "Who are we!"

"TITANS"

"Who are we!"

"TITANS"

"WHO ARE WE!"

"TITANS!"

"Hell yeah, we're the fucking Titans and every other team can suck it!" Puck yelled as all the boys hollered and threw their towels into the air.

Rachel giggled at the scene, adrenaline still pumping through her veins at all the excitement as she turned to leave. Even though she wanted to stay and party with her fellow team members, she was starting to feel the effects of playing an two hour game. She was exhausted and sweaty and she just wanted to shower

Plus she was pretty sure the way these guys were cheering, it was going to lead to some ritual stripping which would lead to naked boys, and Rachel really did not want to see that.

She slipped out of the room unnoticed, and walked down the hallway, receiving a few pats on the back by a couple of random parents as she made her way to the girl's locker room.

Slamming the door shut, her chocolate eyes widened as they came face to face with hazel.

_Quinn._


	8. Chapter 8

N: Hey, Bailey here and ummmmm...BEST CHAPTER EVERRRRR XD. Amazing job as always, Sio!

A/N: Surprise! It's Sio the Beta again! Had some trouble keeping this in Bailey's style this time. Hope it's good (and long!) enough to make up for that. And yes, I know that's not how the jackets work, but I call artistic license.

* * *

Slender fingers tangled in the rough red mesh of her jersey, clenching the collar in a pale fist and pulling, jerking her forwards into the locker room. She stumbled towards her aggressor, off-balance, eyes wide. Her breath caught in her throat, heart hammering against the confines of her chest. Her cleats skidded on the tile, slipping and sliding under her as she fought for balance.

At the last second, before she could crash bodily into the taller girl, she felt another hand lock into her jersey and then the world was spinning. Adrenaline sang through her tired limbs, bringing her hands up to lock around soft yet strong wrists. Everything came to a crashing halt as her back slammed up against the cool steel of the red lockers with a shuddering bang, the force pushing a soft grunt of pain from her lips as her head smacked into the metal.

She opened dazed brown eyes slowly, only to jerk back, catching her head on the lockers again, at the sight of the angry face barely two inches from her own. Hazel eyes bore into hers dark with barely restrained anger, lips twisted into a displeased frown, nostrils slightly flared, their breath mingling. She could feel the other girl's wrists still locked in her hands, feel the way her muscles jumped and trembled under her fingers from the strength of the hold she had on her jersey.

"_Football_, man-hands?" Quinn gave her a shake, pushing her against the lockers again, fists curled in the red jersey, forearms flush with Rachel's chest, pushing her into the lockers. She pressed the length of her body against Rachel to get the leverage to hold the smaller girl up at eye level. "You joined the damn _football_ team?"

Rachel had to stare at her lips, studying the way they formed the words just to understand past the ringing in her ears. She shook as the adrenaline high slowly bled from her, leaving her trembling in Quinn's grasp as she tried to push past the fog of exhaustion and confusion blanketing her mind at the sudden change. t didn't take long. Quinn may have started with the upper hand due to her surprise attack, but she was _Rachel Berry_, the girl who just won the first damn game of the _season_.

Her hands wrapped more firmly around Quinn's wrists, thumbs pressing into the veins snaking up the inside, digging into the pressure point there and forcing her fingers to release. Determined eyes staring into Quinn's suddenly surprised hazel, she flexed her back, pushing off of the lockers and shoving Quinn away. The taller girl stumbled back to catch up against the cinder block wall, staring at the irate little brunette and rubbing her sore wrists.

Rachel jerked the wrinkles from Quinn manhandling her out of her jersey with a few sharp tugs before speaking, her eyes never leaving the cheerleader. "I don't recall asking your _opinion_, Quinn." She stepped away from the lockers, ignoring the blonde as she made her way over to where her locker was.

For a long moment, Quinn stood there, dazedly chafing her wrists in her hands as she tried to work out what had just happened in her head. Then she realized that Rachel hadn't even bothered to get back at her for how she'd acted, that she'd acted like she wasn't worth the effort. That got Quinn's attention - _no one_ dismissed Quinn Fabray - and she stalked around the last bank of lockers only to stop dead in her tracks.

Rachel had managed to get her jersey and pads off already, standing there in her pants and undershirt, and was in the process of peeling off the sweat-soaked t-shirt when Quinn came around the corner. Hazel eyes locked on tanned skin glistening with sweat in the florescent light, smooth muscles rippling underneath as she moved, the faint definition of her abs seemingly more cut after the exertion on the field. The brunette mopped her face with and neck with the shirt in lieu of a towel, before dropping it to the bench and arching into a back popping stretch, hands on her hips and flexing from side to side to stretch her abs unaware of the eyes fixed blankly on the grey sports bra encasing her small breasts as she did so.

Quinn was seriously starting to wondering why someone had turned the heat up the locker room - typically Sue kept it a toasty fifty degrees Fahrenheit - when tanned fingers slipped under the edges of the sports bra and a strangled gasp broke from her throat before she could stop it. Her hands went to her mouth, eyes wide and gaze flying to inspect the lockers, the lights, _anything_ but the body of the girl in front of her. She wasn't interested in things like that! She _especially_ wasn't interested in _Rachel freaking Berry_!

At the sound, Rachel's hands dropped from her bra and her head whipped around in a wild spray of dark hair to see the girl at the end of the row. Realizing who it was, she turned and faced her directly, hands on hips and hair falling in wild disarray about her shoulders. "If there is _something_ I can help you with, then kindly do speak up, Quinn! I am entirely too hot and sweaty to carry this conversation on _any_ longer than absolutely necessary."

_Get your shit together, Fabray! This is just Rachel freaking Berry, the same damn girl who you've been tormenting for __years__!_

"Yeah, I've got something to say to you."

The blonde determinedly locked gazes with the brunette, stalking down the row to get in her face again where her height advantage could be brought into play. She preferred it when she could look down at the annoying little midget - look down _on_ her, that is, because she was _certainly_ not looking _at_ her. She had no interest in the diva's treasure trail - not that there _was_ one. Not that she'd _noticed_, for God's sake!

"You're a _freak_. A disgusting little _freak_, Berry. You're _embarrassing_ all of us by going on that field."

Rachel just folded her arms over her bra-clad chest, standing hip shot before the irritated blonde, one brow cocked imperiously above narrowed dark eyes, not backing down in the slightest. "Really? Are you quite finished, Quinn?"

"No! I'm _not_!" Her hand shot out, tangling in the strap of Rachel's bra - to the brunette's startled surprise - and hauling her close.

"You've embarrassed all of the girls in this school by joining the football team, Rachel." She hissed, ignoring that she'd actually used the other girl's first name, "You could have joined the Cheerios like any other girl would want to do."

"And put up with you and your over the top bitchiness _and_ your crazy coach getting up in my face every day?" Rachel untangled her bra from the other girl's fingers and shoved her hand away. "Thanks but no thanks, I apparently get half of _that_ for free. Maybe you were too busy finding _fault_ and being _embarrassed_ to notice, but I _won_ that game. You're the only one _embarrassed_ that I'm on the team, Quinn."

"Why don't you use your head and think for once, Berry? Wake the hell up! Those guys don't care! Only Puck was blocking for you out there! You're girl, dammit! You're going to get _hurt_!"

Rachel stood there, nearly trembling with anger for a moment before calming down more from sheer force of will than anything else. "_If_ I get hurt, then I get hurt. But, unlike, _some_ people, _I_ am not going to let the fear of something that _might_ happen stop me from doing what I want to do. Now, if you'll _excuse_ me," she untied her pants, quickly stripping out of them and her socks and shoes and tossing them to the bench leaving herself clad only in grey bikini bottoms and sports bra, un-self-conscious of her appearance in her anger, "I'm going to finish getting cleaned up from _winning_ the first game of the season."

With that, she grabbed her shower bag and stalked off, leaving the blonde cheerleader standing in the aisle staring fixedly at the lockers and trembling with restrained fury. There was nothing else it could be. And that image of Rachel in her underwear was burned into her memory out of disgust, of course.

It had to be. She wasn't _like_ that.

* * *

She came out of the locker room in jeans, a black v-necked t-shirt, and a light jacket, her duffel over her shoulder and her hair, still slightly damp despite drying it with her towel - she made a mental note to remember a hair dryer next time - hanging loose and tousled about her shoulders. The high from the game - not to mention dealing with Quinn in the locker room - had worn off and now all she wanted was to go home, crawl into bed and _sleep_. What she _got_ was the grinning faces of Sam and Puck flanking the locker room door, the two boys hooking arms with hers as soon as she walked out, steering her towards the parking lot.

And distinctly _away_ from where her car was parked. "W-what's going on?"

"You'll see." When she didn't show any signs of calming down, Sam sighed, "Come on, Rachel, it'll be fun."

"I have a rape whistle! And - and mace!" They were in her bag and thus completely useless, but that had never stopped her from proclaiming their existence before.

"Cool your jets, babe. We're not gonna let anything happen to you." The little squeeze Puck gave her arm wasn't much comfort, but his words were. So far he'd never let her down when he said he's be there for her and she clung to that.

Sam smiled, a bit awkwardly but genuine, "Yeah, Rachel. it's just a party. Loosen up a bit. We just won! Thanks to _you_. That's pretty awesome and we gotta celebrate."

Looking up at their smiling faces she realized that she wanted to trust them. She wanted it all to be true, to be accepted for once, to be part of the team. "R-really?"

Puck just grinned, giving her another squeeze. "Yeah, Rach. Really."

* * *

It was chaos.

She'd never experienced something so wild and confusing before, even the field was calm in comparison. It was nothing like the modest wrap parties she imagined followed a successful Broadway debut. There were people _everywhere_ for one, laughing, talking, dancing - some sprawled over the nearest surface smashing into each other with the sloppy rush of alcohol fueled indiscretion. Loud _something_ - she supposed it was music but it was entirely too cacophonous to tell for sure - drowned out all but the most _vigorous_ of conversation and made her head spin and her heart pound to the pulse of sound.

She was feeling a bit light headed and the drink she'd been handed - he'd said it was lemonade - didn't seem to be helping. She hadn't seen Puck in at least an hour and she was starting to get worried that perhaps this was a all a horrible joke when she stumbled -literally - across Santana and Brittany and nearly dropped her drink.

The darker girl had the blonde pressed up against the wall under the stairs, her lips roving along the pale column of the girl's neck, one hand tangled in silken hair, the other splayed against the pale thigh pressed against her hip. Brittany's head lolled back against the wall, eyes closed with a blissful expression on her face, one hand wrapped around Santana's neck pulling her close, her other hand locked around one of the balusters of the stair causing the lean muscles of her arm to stand out in stark relief as she helped hold them up. Rachel couldn't help the tiny gasp at the sight - well, _she_ thought it was tiny but judging by the way Santana slowly leaned back from her conquest and turned to her, a sleepily predatory smirk on her face, it wasn't nearly as tiny as she'd believed.

"Well, well," giving Brittany a gentle nudge to get her attention, Santana prowled over to the stunned girl looking like nothing so much as an amused panther to the running back, "if it isn't the latest star of the football team." Dark eyes raked up and down her body, causing a blush to race across the diva's cheeks. "Nice threads, Berry," lips settled near her ear, a soft breath making her shudder, "you should dress like this more often. It's hot. Don't you think, Britt?"

The blonde nodded, pale blue eyes still dark with arousal as she reached out to trail her fingers lightly along the edge of Rachel's collar with a little smile. Rachel shivered, thinking of the last hands to handle her clothing. "Rachel's always been pretty, but this is hot. I like hot."

Her smile widened slightly, pale eyes meeting Rachel's as her fingers dipped into the smaller girl's collar, lightly brushing against her flushed skin. Rachel yelped, quickly reaching up and catching Brittany's hand before it could go any further. "T-that's nice, Brittany. I appreciate the sentiment, really, I do, but -"

Her words were cut off as tanned arms snaked about her waist from behind, tugging her into a lean body, the swell of breasts pressing into her shoulder blades. "You should dance with us, Berry." The voice tickled her ear like the purr of a contented cat, warm breath cascading over sensitive skin causing her to gasp, "Show Finnocence what he's missing."

Before she could get away, Brittany stepped closer, running her hand down her arm and taking the bottle from her hand, setting it on a table nearby. "You really should, Rachel. We're hot and now you're, like, hot and on the football team. It'd be really hot."

Long fingers gently stroked brunette locks from her flushed face as the blonde leaned down, her breath warm on her lips and smelling faintly of citrus. Rachel trembled in Santana's arms, eyes falling closed as Brittany leaned closer.

"What the _hell_ is going on here?"

Rachel tried to jerk out of Santana's arms at the biting sound of Quinn's voice cutting through the noise, but the other girl didn't let her go. Brittany just stepped to the side, turning to face her cheer captain, one hand sliding lazily across Rachel's free shoulder. Santana smirked at the disgusted looking blonde, chin propped on the girl in her arm's shoulder and looking entirely too comfortable for Quinn's taste.

"We're just," her smirk widened at the scowl on Quinn's face deepened, "enjoying Berry's company, isn't that right, B?"

"Yeah, Rachel is gonna dance with us, Q." Her roaming fingers had reached Rachel's hair and were casually twirling a brunette lock, blue eyes met hazel with a knowing glint. "I think it'll be really hot. Finn'll be so jealous."

"Ugh, you're _all_ a bunch of freaks!" Spotting the half full bottle on the table, she snagged it and tossed back the contents in an attempt at cooling off. Why was it so damned _hot_?

"Q, you really shouldn't drink anything you find lying around." Santana straightened a bit, pulling her chin from Rachel's shoulder and looking at her with some concern. "Especially not at a party like this."

"Whatever, Santana. This was weak." Quinn held the bottle up, peering at the label in the dim light of the alcove. "Which one of yours was it anyway?"

"Rachel's." Brittany's smile was almost devious as the other blonde suddenly jerked the bottle away from her face.

Rachel took the opportunity to extract herself from Santana's grasp, walking over and taking the bottle from the obviously intoxicated cheerleader. "Really, Quinn, you should be more careful."

"I don't need your _advice_, Man-hands, okay? I can take care of _myself_. I don't need you and your stupid touchdown making stunts." She got up in the smaller girl's face. "I'm Quinn _fucking_ Fabray, Berry. I'm the head damn cheerleader. I don't _need_ you."

Rachel just arched a brow. "I never said you did, Quinn." She turned back to Santana and Brittany, "I believe you said something about a dance...?"

Santana just smirked at Quinn as she stepped up and wrapped an arm around Rachel's waist. "That's right, Berry." She spoke to Rachel, but her eyes never left Quinn's. "You, me and Britt on the dance floor. We'll burn it up. Britt, you coming?"

Brittany let out a happy laugh, skipping over to wrap her arm around Rachel's shoulders as they walked off leaving a fuming Quinn behind them, "Ooh, can I?"

Quinn pushed through the crowd behind them, few people sober enough to realize - or care - who she was. She broke through just in time to realize that much of the crowd was made up of former dancers. The floor had cleared shortly after the two cheerleaders and the star of the game had gotten on it, leaving them plenty of room. Not that it seemed they needed it.

Brittany gyrated behind Rachel, her hands gripping the girl's hips and pulling her back into her body. Rachel's arms reached up behind her, twining around Brittany's neck, her head lolling back against the taller blonde's shoulder, eyes closed as she let the music flow through her turning sound into movement as she writhed between the two girls. Santana ground into the front of the girl, occasionally sliding down her body only to climb back up again, hands slipping down arms and over legs.

Quinn had stopped her pushing when the sight met her eyes. She could only stand there, frozen in place as the scene played out before her eyes. She swallowed against the lump in her throat at the sight, tongue darting out to slide across lips suddenly dry. A strange warmth settled in the pit of her stomach, urging her to move, to get out on the floor and pull Rachel away from them - no, to pull _them_ away from _Rachel_, from the _freak_, from _argh_! It was entirely too frustrating! - but her feet refused to move.

She could only stand there, staring blankly. It wasn't attractive. It certainly wasn't _hot_. It was just Man-hands and her two best friends having a fit of temporary insanity and embarrassing themselves on the dance floor. She wasn't _jealous_, even if the boy who'd been coming over to talk to her _had_ scurried away when she growled at the sight of Santana pressing her lips against the brunette's neck, dark eyes firmly locked with hazel as she did, a sly smirk playing on dark red lips at the fury coloring the blonde's face.

Rachel was feeling out of control, light headed and far looser than usual - she was starting to think that maybe that drink hadn't been just lemonade - but she couldn't seem to bring herself to care. Everything was warm and pleasant between the two girls and she was content to sway with their guidance, arms around Brittany's neck helping to hold her up when her knees threatened to give out under her at the feel of the dark haired girl's hands on her body. She could feel the gentle friction and warmth of Brittany against her back, the smooth grind of Santana in front of her, their hands on her hips guiding her body to move with the music.

The soft moan that escaped her lips at the feel of Santana's lips on her throat seemed to cut through the overpowering music to pierce Quinn's ears. A hot wave of anger - it wasn't jealousy, she wasn't _jealous_ of any of those freaks! - rushed through her at the combination of the sound and the damnable _knowing_ look from Santana. But before she could convince her legs to finally carry her onto the floor and break things up, Puck was there, one hand on either cheerleader's shoulder.

"Spank-bank worthy as this is - and believe me, I am so filing this away for a special time - we need to borrow Rachel from you."

Santana and Brittany peeled away from the running back - Santana shooting another amused look at the irate blonde in the crowd as she did - leaving her to the tender mercies of her teammates.

"Now, really, we should have given this to you once you made the team, but, well, we suck." Sam spoke, stepping out of the crowd with a folded bundle in his hands. Even intoxicated, Rachel's eyes widen as she realized what he was holding.

The jacket unfurled as he and Puck took hold of the shoulders, letting it hang between them. Once it was unfolded, Sam passed it off to Puck, "You believed in her from the beginning, man. It's your show."

The blond wide receiver stepped into the crowd, putting his arm around his head cheerleader girlfriend's shoulders with a smile. Quinn smiled warmly up at him, relaxing into his side with a glare across the room at Santana who only smirked in response. Brittany looked confused for a moment before Santana glanced up at her with a kiss and a whispered "later".

Out on the dance floor, Puck held the jacket open for Rachel with a grin. Her eyes sparkled with happiness as she slipped first one arm and then the other into the sleeves, the warm wool settling against her back as the familiar white and red letterman jacket with it's distinctive navy 'M' enveloped her. Puck wrapped his arms around her in a brief hug after he dropped the jacket down on her shoulders.

"Welcome to the team, Rach. We got a long year ahead of us. You ready for this?"

She grinned up at him, tugging at the edges of her jacket. "Let's kick some ass!"


	9. Chapter 9

****

**A.N: Ok, so I wrote this chapter and I really have no excuse for how long it took me...except to say I was distracted! I'm so sorry *starts sobbing* please forgive me!**

**Ok haha, heres chapter 9! Thanks for betaing for me Sio!**

* * *

In the midst of the outrageous-_amazing_-party, Rachel had come to realize that life really was more than singing in school musicals and vying for ever solo in Glee. There were friends-_Noah and maybe Sam_-, partying, going out, having _fun_, something she hadn't had in a _long_ time.

For the first time in _months_, Rachel was able to just relax and be herself-sort of- and not have people telling her that they wanted to "Punch her in the face every time she opened her mouth." It was nice.

She also realized that she shouldn't let people to affect her anymore. The 'old' Rachel Berry was all about killing them with kindness, but _this_ Rachel, the new and improved _football star_ was about 'Indifference.'

Because, _really_? Why should she care about what people think of her anymore? She had defied the odds, made the team and _won_ the first game of the season despite the anger and hate directed her way.

She was 'Rachel 'Gold Star' Berry, and if people didn't like her, then they could, for lack of a more eloquent term, 'suck it.'.

* * *

**Monday Morning, Rachel's locker**

Though Monday came far too quickly for the exhausted brunette-with all of Friday and Saturday spent at various celebratory parties in honor of the football team's win-the morning had actually started out very well.

Rachel was able to wake up with enough time to make herself a nice, vegan-friendly breakfast, before Puck came to pick her up for morning practice, which surprisingly had been canceled upon their arrival as a award for winning their first game of the season.

She also couldn't deny that walking down the hallway and having the students that once ridiculed her part for her like she was royalty was also pretty amazing and did wonders for her ego.

However, her good morning ended abruptly when a hand slammed her locker door close, just barely missing her face as she dodged out of the way, a familiar voice growling, "Man-Hands!"

Rolling her eyes at the insult, Rachel straightened her shoulders, pulled her letterman jacket closer to her form and peered boredly up into the blonde's eyes, which were a dark and stormy hazel with anger, "What, Quinn?"

The blonde bared her teeth, scanning her eyes over the brunette's form, _not_ noticing how sexy she looked today, before sneering, "I can't believe you're _still_ on that damn team. I thought I told you-"

"Hey, Q. Rachel."

Rachel smiled wryly as Santana and Brittany appeared behind Quinn's shoulders seemingly out of thin air, unconsciously dragging her-considerably darker-chocolate eyes over both of their uniform clad forms, before snapping her eyes back to Santana's face, who, she noticed, was leering at her half-amused, half-aroused.

"Why, hello, Santana, Brittany. To what do I owe the honor of your-"

"What the _hell_, guys, go _away_. I'm trying to talk to Treasure-Trail here-"

Santana interrupted the sneering blonde mid-rant, casually pushing her aside as she sauntered up to a frowning Rachel, an amused smirk curling the corners of her lips up as her dark eyes raked over the smaller girl's body. She leaned against the lockers, eyes on her hand as she trailed a finger lightly along the line of Rachel's jacket, the tip of her tongue just barely poking out to moisten her lips.

When she reached the bottom, her fingers curled into the fabric, giving it a little tug encouraging the brunette to step forward into her space, which Rachel did - almost unconsciously - the sound of her breath catching in her throat bringing a dark haze to the Latina's eyes.

"Britt and I were thinking," she started, eyes going soft for a moment before becoming playfully sexy, fingers still playing with Rachel's jacket, head cocked coyly to the side, "That we should go out. The three of us. Tonight."

Rachel's eyes widened in surprise at the proposition, as Quinn gasped and Brittany giggled sweetly.

"Oh, totally. We'll so make it worth your while." Brittany took a step closer to the football star, biting her lip innocently as she traced a finger along the contours of Rachel's face. Rachel stared at them both semi-hypnotized as they eyed her darkly, until Quinn broke her out of her trance.

"Oh. My. God. _Seriously_? What, couldn't find anyone else desperate enough for a second go with the two of you so you ask out the school freak? What, want to see what she's packing under that argyle skirt. Well, I guess it _is_ a bargain, considering that as Rachel does have both sets of equipment. It's, like, a two-for-one."

Face flushing in anger and embarrassment, Rachel turned enraged eyes to Quinn, opening her mouth to berate her when Santana beat her to it.

"Oh, get off it, Quinnie. You're just jealous cause Berry doesn't want to take your uptight ass for a spin. Now, why don't you go find Ken and drag him off to make more illegitimate bastard spawns? Give your lizard baby a sibling." Santana said with a roll of her eyes as she dropping her hand from Rachel's shirt before smirking.

Quinn-and Rachel- sucked in a breath at the harsh words, with hurt flashing in the blonde's eyes at the mention of Beth, before they hardened considerably, "Screw you, Slutana. I doubt RuPaul is actually interested. Rachel doesn't date easy, two-cent _whores_."

Eyes darting between the two, Rachel felt a weird fluttering in her stomach at the use of her given name by the blonde Cheerio before clearing her throat, "_Actually_, I think I _will_ take you up on your offer. Is six fine?"

Rachel smiled genuinely up at Brittany, who clapped her hands together in excitement, before nodding slightly at Santana, "And, I fully expect you to keep your promise of making it worth my while, ladies."

Santana smirked down at the brunette, ignoring Quinn's flabbergasted expression as she leaned forward and gave the football star a lingering kiss on the cheek, "Oh, we will _definitely_ show you a good time, Berry. Just you wait and see. See you at practice, Quinniepuff!"

Linking pinkies with Brittany, Santana spun around, making her skirt flip up in the process to show off her tight red spankies before dragging a giggling Brittany away with her.

Rachel's eyed their forms as they walked down the hallway before returning her gaze to the now seething blonde, "If that's all, Quinn, I-_we_ have class now so-" Rachel made a gesture signaling that she was going, maneuvering away from the blonde until she heard Quinn call out, "Wait."

Turning her head back towards the head cheerleader, Rachel raised her eyebrow impassively, wondering what the blonde could _possibly_ want now.

"They're only using you, you know. For y-your popularity." Quinn nibbled on her bottom lip, frowning down at the ground, "They don't really care about you."

Rachel smiled lightly, eyes indifferent as she took in the blonde's unexpectedly open demeanor, "And what makes you think that I'm not using them back?"

* * *

**Cheerios Locker Room, After Practice**

After that confrontation-battle-between her, Santana and Treasure Trail, Quinn was _pissed_. Beyond pissed. She had actually never been so enraged in her entire life. So _humiliated_. How _dare_ Santana insult her like that-and ask out Berry-talking down to her like she was actually someone important-and ask out Berry-she couldn't believe the girl's audacity!

Who did the Latina think she _was_? A loser with fake boobs on the bottom of the pyramid, thats who. And Quinn took great pleasure reminding of that fact.

The blonde Cheerio had even marched into Coach Sylvester's in the middle of the day and _demanded_ that she call a special practice during their lunch hour, because they were quote wasting there time eating when they could be getting in a good hour of practice unquote, which was such _bull_ but she didn't care! And unsurprisingly, Coach had readily agreed and soon they were all running the track, with Quinn leading the pack completing 2 miles in under twelve minutes, unconsciously gaining even more of the Coach's hard earned approval.

Which she didn't even _care_ about anymore, all she knew was that she needed to let out a lot of steam and running laps and screaming at lagging Cheerios was just the way to do that.  
It also helped that she was able to convince the Coach that Santana had been slacking off at practice lately, and that she should be made to run suicides for the rest of the hour.

But now it was _after_ practice and she was _still_ pissed. And seeing fun-bags laughing it up with Brittany wasn't doing much to help her mood. No _way_ was she about to allow Santana to stay in a good mood-after spending a hour running _suicides_ no less- when she was fucking upset- she wasn't upset upset, just irritated and pissed off, of course. No way at all.

"Lopez!"

Santana rolled her eyes at the screech, because Q sounded like a fucking banshee and she was just _not_ in the mood to deal with that bucket of crazy right now. She was tired and sore, and shit, her legs fucking _hurt_, all because of that power hungry mini-Sylvester was pissed that she actually had the balls to hook up with Berry.

Quinn really needed to get that stick out of her ass.

"Oh Captain, My Captain! What can I do for ya?" Santana mock saluted and stood up straight before bursting out into guffaws at the blonde's angry expression. Quinn scowled and ground her teeth at the Latina's words.

_Oh, this bitch is going __down_.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing? Asking out that, that _freak_! Are you trying to bring shame down on the Cheerios? What would Coach say?"

Santana rolled her eyes at the words before sneering, "Newsflash. Quinnie! Who _cares_? Man-Hands is a football _stud_ and it's _tradition_ for Britt or I to _congratulate_ the star football player, it's not like that's changed in the three years we've been here. You know it, Coach knows it, _everybody_ knows it. So, what I have to ask, is _why_ do you care if I'm going out with Treasure-Trail? Is it because it's your precious 'Berry' and you can't stand the thought of anyone else paying attention to her?"

Quinn flushed at the accusation, eyes lowering to the ground for a second before glaring at the Latina hatefully, "No! Of _course_ not. I'm not gay."

Letting a smirk form on her face, Santana stepped closer to the blonde, "Oh, _please_. You're, like, the most repressed lesbian in the entire _state_. You are just too in denial to _ever_ admit that you're into that freak."

As Quinn fell silent in shock at the words, Santana took the opportunity to lean over and whisper in the blonde's ear, "You're just jealous that I got to Berry first. And now, Britt and I are going to pop Berry's cherry tonight and there is _nothing_ you can do to stop it."

Straightening, Santana pecked the speechless blonde on the cheek before grabbing her Cheerios bag and gliding towards the exit.

She turned back to give the still blonde a smirk before waving her hand at her head Cheerio, "Have a good night, Q! Cause I certainly will."

Quinn stood stock still for a moment before letting out a indignant shriek, "I AM NOT JEALOUS!"

* * *

**6:37, Breadstix.**

_Jealous_? Quinn Fabray does _not_ get jealous. Jealousy is for the weak, and she definitely wasn't _weak_.

She got knocked up by the school play-boy, lost her popularity and 'friends', got kicked out of the house by her parents and then by her ex-boyfriend, delivered a healthy baby girl, gave her away, lost the baby fat and _still_ was able to come back a few months, better than ever, and even with a few improvements-Sam and her freedom from her father.

Quinn Fabray was _strong_ and strong people didn't submit to such petty emotions such as jealousy and longing.

No, the reason she was donning all black and wearing a pair of her subtlest sunglasses, spying on Brittany, Santana's and Rachel's date had nothing to do with _jealousy_. Really.

She wasn't jealous when Santana slid in across from Rachel and Brittany, eye-fucking the tiny diva for all she was worth. She certainly wasn't jealous when Brittany leaned over to whisper in Rachel's ear, causing the brunette to go beat red at what ever the statuesque blonde said. \

And she _definitely_ was not jealous that they were able to make Rachel throw her head back and laugh with an expression of such pure unadulterated joy that it made her whole face light up, making the already beautiful brunette even more gorgeous-and in turn, making Quinn's stomach knot up uncomfortably.

It had _everything_ to do with the fact that she didn't want that slut-and Brittany-making even bigger fools of themselves by sleeping with the school loser-She refused to think of Berry as anything else-slobbering all over the brunette like they were cats in heat. It was absolutely disgusting.

If it ever got out that they had sex with the Yeti, the Cheerios reputation would go down and Quinn could _not_ allow that to happen.

That was the only reason she was stalking the three girls while dressed like a creep.

Really.

* * *

Rachel was having more fun than she thought she would've. After the awkward pickup, where she had to sit and listen to Santana explain to her fathers why the _three_ of them were all going out on the date, she had really begun to enjoy herself. Santana and Brittany were _fun_, even though they kept leering at her like they wanted to devour the diva, but _whatever_. Even though she would _never_ allow that to happen, the 'date' was still enjoyable.

"So, Rachel...what's it like to be a big, strong, sexy football star? I mean, you were just _so_ attractive out there, catching the ball, winning the game for the team. You are just so _amazing_." Santana tilted forward and slid her fingers along Rachel's hand, staring at the diva seductively and making Rachel feel a bit uneasy.

Sliding her hand back, Rachel smirked and narrowed her eyes contemplatively, "While I do enjoy the compliments, Santana, I have to say that they're unwarranted. I'm just another player on the team, couldn't have won it without my teammates."

Frowning in confusion at the girls words, because Berry _never_ undermined praise and turned down compliments, Santana fell back against the booth and crossed her arms in annoyance. She didn't know what was wrong with the girl! All night she had been paying Berry compliments and flirting like there was no tomorrow, and the brunette _still_ hadn't succumbed to her charms.

She was even resisting _Brittany_, and no one was ever able to resist the deliciously indecent statuesque blonde. It was like, impossible. But here Rachel fucking Berry was, playing all coy and being uninterested. It was infuriating beyond belief.

Mentally throwing her hands up in defeat, Santana scoffed, "Ok, what is your _deal_ Berry? At the party Friday night, we were _all_ up on your grill and you _liked_ it, but now that we're actually on a _date_ and me and Britt are totally willing to give you reason to brag to your teammates tomorrow, you act like you don't want it at all. Are you, like, bi-polar or asexual or something?"

Brittany blinked in confusion, "Rachel's a fish? She doesn't look like a fish, San..." Rachel held in a laugh at the words, raising her eyebrow in amusement at the blonde before letting out a breath.

"Nope, I'm actually quite bisexual." Rachel grinned when she saw Santana's eyes lighten up in surprise and Brittany smile widely, "And don't get me wrong, you and Brittany are very...attractive, and I can't say that I'm not completely uninterested, it's just, I'm trying to focus on my game right now. I don't need any distractions or unnecessary drama right now, Santana. And honestly, you two are the definition of trouble."

Santana gaped at the tiny diva before frowning darkly, "I bet if Quinnie was the one to ask you out you'd be all up on her Un-Virgin Mary ass."

Neither denying or confirming, Rachel just shrugged, "I doubt Quinn would ever be interested in me, considering our muddy history. And I can't say for sure that I'd ever be interested in her back. Though she is quite beautiful, Quinn's horrid personality deters me from even contemplating the idea of use together."

"God, _whatever_, Berry. Let's talk straight, Britt and I _need_ something from you tonight. You're the new hot commodity, and everyone wants a piece of you, so whether you like it or not, by tomorrow morning _everyone_ is going to think we've all slept together. Your new popularity will help boost me and Britt's. It's not like we actually like you."

"Well, uh, I kind of like Rachel." Santana's eyes snapped over to the frowning blonde, who bit her lower lip in confusion.

Turning her head towards Rachel, Brittany beamed brightly at the brunette who hesitantly returned her smile, "I mean, even though she uses big words and use to remind me of my grandma Anke from the way she dressed-you totally dress hotter now, Rachel-she's really nice, San. She helped me when my cat Charity was sick."

Rachel grinned at the blonde, reaching up to press a chaste kiss on the Dutch girl's cheek, "Thank you, Brittany. I like you too."

* * *

Across the room, Quinn broke a glass cup at the display.

* * *

Santana huffed, pressing back against the booth and scowled, "Well, Brittany may like you but _I_ don't. You just have something I need."

Grin growing wider, Rachel inclined forward and lowered her voice, "Ok, how about we make a deal? You can use me for my new found popularity, but I'll need something from you, the both of you. Agreed?"

Santana raised her eyebrow and smirked, "What do you have in mind Berry?"  
Rachel gestured for the brunette to come closer, lowering her voice a fraction, "Well-

* * *

"What do you mean you're kicking me out? I didn't mean to break the cup, hey, hey! _Don't_ touch that! I swear, I'm never eating at this crappy restaurant again!"

* * *

"-how does that sound?" Rachel propped back against the seat, raising an eyebrow as Brittany giggled next to her, waiting for the Latina's response.

Santana gave the tiny diva a sinister grin as her eyes lit up darkly, "Perfect."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Sio's back! Sorry this took forever and a day. I've been so slow on writing lately. Prepare for things to take a turn for the cracky to make up for it! Fic-followers, any ideas for where things should go? Let us know! We're making it cracky! ;)**

* * *

The next day, William McKinley High was all abuzz with speculation. Breadstix was far from a secluded place for a tryst, and enough of the school's gossips had spotted the unlikely trio sitting cozy in their booth in the back. Especially since they'd been seen actually _leaving_ together. Like, _together_ together.

And all the gossip flying through the halls was before any of the three girls had even arrived on campus. So when Rachel walked in wearing stone-washed jeans slightly to big to be hers - cuffs at the bottom were needed to make them fit properly - and a white button-up shirt that was obviously not hers - cuffs rolled over the cuffs of her jacket sleeves and the bottom of the shirt tied off exposing her abs, half the buttons missing - under her letterman's jacket the rumor mill really kicked into gear. Especially when a particularly observant rumor-monger noticed the small collection of suspicious bruises on her neck and upper chest, poorly covered with concealer.

But things _really_ exploded when Santana and Brittany arrived.

The two cheerleaders parted around her - Brittany to the left, Santana to the right - like water around a boulder. Santana's arm snaked around her waist, thumb hooking into the waistband of Rachel's jeans just over her hip. Brittany curled an arm around her shoulders, leaning into her with a smile.

"Rach, your butt looks, like, super fine in San's jeans. I mean, your skirts are pretty hot too, but I really like you when you're in San's pants," the blonde nods, leaning over to plant a kiss on the blushing brunette's cheek.

"And you totally owe Britt a new shirt," the Latina smirked before reaching over to tip the running back's face up for a heated kiss, running the tip of her tongue over her top lip lightly when she finally pulled back, "though biting the buttons off like that to get to her abs was _totally_ hot."

Rachel could only blink dazedly after Santana's kiss. As over the top and in-your-face as the girl could be, no one could deny that she knew how to kiss - least of all one Rachel Berry. Her mental state wasn't much improved when Brittany pouted about being left out, cupped her cheeks in her warm hands and dipped down for her own involved kiss.

The pair of cheerleaders laughed at the stunned expression on the other girl's face, tugging her along with them as they walked down the hall. They could hear the rumors flying around them, feel the staring eyes of their classmates boring into them. It was pissing Santana off - everybody getting up in her business where they had no place - but Brittany only looked at her over Rachel's head and shook her head, so she contained her ire and waited.

They dropped Rachel off at her locker with a pair of quick kisses to either cheek. The running back grinned at them, whispering something to Brittany that had the lanky dancer in giggles while Santana rounded on the various people staring at the trio with various levels of shock and disbelief. When she spotted a familiar blonde in the crowd, she could barely hide her smirk - this just kept getting better.

"What the hell are all you losers looking at?" She loved how everyone would flinch away from her - it just made her feel all, like, warm and fuzzy and shit, "You're all just jealous cause Berry's got mad game and you wish you could tap that but uh-uh, boys and girls, Santittany has laid claim to that fine ass. So you all?" One hand came up from her hip to point sassily around the crowd, "best be stepping off 'fore I be _giving_ you a reason for them slack-jawed mouth-breather looks you're sporting."

For a long moment no one moved. Which, of course, was not the right response when confronted with irritated Santana.

"Did I _stutter_, morons?" She glared, looking far more pissed off then she had been moments before, "Shoo!"

The crowd scattered. Not everyone _left_, but they definitely were keeping their eyes off of the trio if they had to be in the hall. An acceptable compromise.

Santana turned back to the two girls, "And _that_ is how you get people to shut the _fuck_ up about shit they ain't be deserving to talk about."

Brittany grinned and threw her arms around the darker girl. "Isn't San the best, Rach? We should _totally_ have penguin sex now!"

The other two had started to respond, only to stare at each other completely confused. Penguin sex? Rachel just kept shooting the blissfully oblivious Brittany mildly concerned looks until Santana mouthed "the documentary" to her and her eyes widened in recognition. Standing on her tip toes, one hand on Britt's should and the other cupped around her mouth, Rachel whispered something into the blonde's ear.

"Really?" She looked surprised, but Rachel only nodded, "Oh. Well, I don't want to break you, silly!" Rachel started to smile, until Britt continued with a bright grin, "We can just have regular sex then!"

Rachel blushed dark red, falling back against her locker with a soft thump. The half-smile never quite left her face. Santana just laughed, hooking pinkies with the taller girl.

"Come on, B. Let's leave Tiny to her," Santana paused with a sly smirk for the smaller brunette, "_thoughts_."

Almost as soon as the pair disappeared down the hallway, Puck sidled up to the bemused Rachel still staring off into space.

"Babe, you gotta tell me. Is it true? You, Britt, and _Santana_?"

"All I can say is that I have discovered that sexuality is remarkably," she rolled her head against the locker to peer up at him with a dreamy smile, "_fluid_."

Puck stood there, staring at her for a long moment as she turned and spun the combination into her locker opening the steel box. "Holy _shit_! You totally _scored_! With Brittany _and_ Santana! At the same time? Come on, Rach, you _gotta_ tell me. I'm dyin' here!"

Rachel just glanced at him with an enigmatic smirk, grabbing her books, "What do you think?"

"Oh yeah," he nodded, a pleased grin on his face, eyes closed, picturing it in his mind, "that is _so_ hot. So, Jewbabe, you're gonna do your bro a solid and get me in on that action, right? Cause the Puckster is _totally_ down for some hot four-way action with three of the hottest chicks in campus."

Rachel leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek, "Noah, I love you. I do." She smiled at the boy, patting his cheek with fond affection, "but I'm afraid you just don't have the right equipment for the job. I'm sorry."

She left him gaping at her back as she walked away, "I thought we were bros, Rach! _Bros_! How could they have corrupted you so fast?"

Rachel's laughter drifting through the hall as she turned the corner was the only response he got.

* * *

Quinn was _stunned_. Shocked. _Horrified_ even.

Her two second-in-commands had hooked up with _Rachel_ freaking _Berry_.

They did it. They had actually _did_ it. Sure, she'd known Santana and Brittany played fast and loose with sexual morals, but hooking up with _Berry_? Of _all_ people?

That was an entirely new level of _degraded_. Even for _them_.

And _claiming her __**ass**_? In front of the _entire school_? Had they lost their _minds_?

Quinn was bound and determined to get to the bottom of this.

So when Santana and Brittany came around the corner, pale fingers had latched onto a tanned arm like the talons of some oversized raptor. Santana barely had time to squawk in protest before she was flung around and slammed into the lockers, pinned in place by an irate head cheerleader. Brittany could only look on, discomforted by the situation but not sure how to resolve it without hurting one of her friends.

"What. The. _Hell_, Santana?"

Santana glared, "_Excuse_ me, bitch? You just done stepped on _my_ line. What the fuck is wrong with you, Quimby?"

"Don't give me any of your shit, Santana. I'm so not in the mood. What the hell is going on with you two and Berry?"

Suddenly catching on, Santana relaxed back into the lockers with a sly smirk, "So _that's_ what's got your panties in a knot? Hey, she might be a shortie but she's totally hot enough to get our mack on with. Besides," she decided to get some of hers back from the blonde for getting up in her game so often, her tongue darting out to lick her lips as she gave Quinn her smokiest gaze - the one that made Puck just _melt_, "that girl is _insatiable_. She wore us _all_ out, right, Britt?"

Brittany nodded, pleased that Quinn and Santana seemed to not be on the verge of a fistfight again, "Yeah, Rach just keeps going and going. And she's, like, _really_ flexible for not being a cheerleader," remembering the crazy Yogi Bear thing the little girl had suggested after their Animal Planet marathon and the demonstration. It was surprisingly hot - she hadn't known people that weren't her could bend like that, "We all fell asleep in San's bed and I totally got to cuddle with Rach. She's like a warm, snuggly teddy bear. I totally like sleeping with her."

Quinn could only stare at the other blonde, stunned at Brittany's revelation. Santana laughed, reaching up to pat her cheek and slipping from her hold. Brittany promptly hugged the brunette as soon as she got close, making it easy for her to spot Rachel coming around the corner.

"Yeah, Q, Rach's got mad bedroom skillz for an untapped talent. The _things_ she can do with her _tongue_," the Latina leaned back against the lanky dancer who still hadn't let her go, fanning herself with her hand, "damn. I mean, just _damn_. All those vocal lessons paid off in a _real_ unexpected way." She grinned at the discomforted expression on her captain's face.

Brittany was starting to get concerned at how red in the face Quinn was getting, "Don't get mad, Quinn. You can _totally_ come next time, if you want. I'm sure Rachel wouldn't mind!"

"Wouldn't mind what, Britt?" Rachel asked, coming up on the trio.

The dancer whirled, scooping the diva into a bear hug, "Rachel! I missed you!" She planted a big kiss on the girl before setting her back down, "Quinn wants to join us next time! You don't mind do you?"

"If Quinn joins us?" Rachel blinked, trying to focus past the kiss - Santana might be good but Brittany had _lots_ of experience - finally she shrugged, figuring Brittany was talking about their impromptu sleepover in Santana's bed, "No, I don't mind. Though you may not be very comfortable. I'm not sure how four people would fit."

Quinn gaped, sputtering more than saying anything coherent. Brittany and Rachel just looked at her completely baffled by her sudden inarticulation. Santana could barely contain her laughter over the whole thing.

Finally, Brittany decided that Quinn must concerned about the discomfort of all of them not fitting in the bed, "Don't worry, Quinn! Rach is like a warm, cuddly teddy bear. She can totally sleep on me and you can have her spot!" She smiled warmly, certain she'd resolved the problem.

"What are you _talking_ about? I'm not going to... I'm not like... I can't... you're all just _sick_!" Quinn yelled, flinging up her hands in disgust, before spinning about on her heel and storming off.

Brittany frowned as she left. "Sick's a good thing, right? Like what they say about snowboarders and stuff when we watch the X-games. Right, San?"

"Oh, yeah, B. Yeah," Santana wiped away a few amused tears from the corners of her eyes, still chuckling a bit, "that's totally what Q meant. _Totally_."

Rachel just rolled her eyes and headed to class


End file.
